Interviews

Yes, after altogether too long of that box in the lower-left corner of the screen displaying a test message, I'm back. I know, I've done this before: I've declared my triumphant return then promptly vanished off the radar for another few months. But I'm here for you now, baby, I've changed, please take me back, please God take me back. Don't make me cry. You don't want to see me cry.

Still, for my latest brief but glorious return to the Intertubes, I figured I'd be better off for venting my spleen on a subject that's been bugging me for ages now. Those of you who enjoy writing, who are trying to harness the power of the Interweb 2.0 for the purposes of cramming your words into the eyes of people who previously wouldn't feel inclined to give half a shit for your work, those who are trying to make your way in an increasingly hostile literary world: this one's for you. Read on.

I hate interviews with writers. Everywhere I look now, there's an up-and-coming writer being interviewed. New book on the way? New website? Ooh, better get an interview with some other site that's low on the pecking order. They've got to fill their whatever-it-is-they-have-instead-of-pages now, haven't they? Every single HTML document on the web is now a mere six frigging clicks away from someone determined to share their thoughts about literature today, dropping names like some great butterfingers. Where do you get your ideas from? Who's your influence? Where are you answering these questions? What the Hell are you about?

I have some horrible news, boys and girls: no-one really gives a shit. Not the reader, not the interviewer, and — deep down you know this, guys — you. It's not because of you, really; you're (usually) regular people, nothing wrong with that. It's because of the interview. What the Hell is the point? That's what I'd like to know. You've got a website, a blog, a mySpace, a facebook, a twitter, and a metric crapton of other minor things that all amount to a pretty comprehensive web presence. And what do you do with all this? You blog. You write about your lives, often in exhaustive detail, so when interview time finally rolls around, we're all bored shitless with you before you put fingers to keyboard. You've told us all there is to know, and the novelty of having some other bugger ask you about specific bits and pieces soon wears off.

Now, you are, I'd hope, intelligent people. This can't have escaped your notice, can it? Next time, try and do something original. Make sure your next interviews are complete fabrications from start to finish. Total and utter lies. Or do something other than just talk about yourselves! Act like the raconteurs and raconteuses you're supposed to be, and take the reader, the interviewer and yourselves somewhere interesting for a change.

Don't make me say 'please', folks. I'd never live it down.

Originally posted to slacknhash.net on June 5, 2008.